


Hard Rain

by DizzyDrea



Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: Episode Tag, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: In the quiet aftermath of the mission, Noah and Adam reconnect.





	Hard Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to my DW/LJ back in October when _Moscow Rules_ first aired, because at that point there was literally no The Brave fic online. Anywhere. There's a bit out there now, so I thought I'd port it over to AO3 to close out 2017. Further notes can be found at the end of the story, so as not to spoil the story.
> 
> The Brave belongs to Keshet International, Universal Television, NBC and a lot of other people who aren't me. I'm doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

He's sitting in the booth at the back of the bar, nursing the one drink he's allowing himself tonight. Hannah had ribbed him for the hard limit, had told him it was a good day, a win, and he deserved to celebrate. But Noah's not much of a drinker anyway, and they do have to go back to work tomorrow. Best not to do what they do with a hangover. 

He's got his cell phone pressed to his ear, listening to it ring on the other end. He'd pulled it out the second Hannah had excused herself to go to the restroom. He can feel the disappointment settling in his gut with each successive ring. 

He does some quick math in his head and realizes that it's past two AM at Incirlik, and the team's probably getting some well-earned sleep. But just when he's resolved to hang up and try again tomorrow he hears the click-click of the line picking up and the encryption engaging. 

"Hey," says a quiet voice at the other end of the line. 

"I'm sorry," Noah says, rubbing a hand across his face. "I didn't even think about the time over there. You were probably sleeping." 

"Actually, I was waiting for you to call," Adam says. "I thought you'd have dived for the phone the minute we were back on base." 

Noah chuckles. "Am I that predictable?" 

"More like reliable," Adam says, and Noah can hear the smile all the way across the Atlantic. 

"So, how are you?" Noah asks. "And no bullshit answers, please. Today was entirely too close." 

"I'm good," Adam says. "Mostly unscathed. Had to give blood in the field, or else our HVT wouldn't have been ambulatory for exfil. But otherwise, I'm fine. No bullshit." 

"Good," Noah says, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That's good." 

"You okay?" Adam asks. "You seem… a little stressed out." 

"Yeah, I'm okay," Noah says. "Why wouldn’t I be?" 

"I don't know," Adam says. "You tell me? What's got you so rattled? Is it because of the op?" 

"No," Noah says. "Yes. I don't know." 

"Well, that's as clear as mud," Adam says on a chuckle. "Is it because I mentioned that you were first in your class at Langley?" 

And damn the man for being so perceptive, even five thousand miles away. Noah sighs. 

"Patricia knows," Adam says into the silence. "It's why she lured you away from the CIA. There are still people at Langley that are pissed, and it's been how many years?" 

"I know," Noah says. It isn't rational, but he likes to keep that sort of thing quiet. Now, a room full of people he has to see every day knows. 

"You're not ashamed of it," Adam says. "So what is it?" 

Noah shrugs, though he knows Adam can't see it. "I'm good at what I do. And I like that people know that. I don't want them to look at me differently, just because I graduated top of my class. That's meaningless bullshit, really. Anyone can look good on paper. It's what you do in the real world that matters. Besides, Hannah…" 

"Hannah what?" Adam asks. 

"It's like now she's willing to take me seriously when she didn't before," Noah says quietly, aware that she could pop around the corner any second now. 

Adam snorts. "She'd have figured it out eventually." 

"What? That I graduated top of my class, or that I'm actually good at my job?" 

"Both," Adam says. "Because you are good at your job, and she'd have eventually seen that. But she's also an intelligence analyst; no way she's never looking you up. It pays to know who you work with." 

"I know," Noah says. He tips his head back and sighs. "I guess I just wish I had her respect before she knew about that." 

"Nothing wrong with that," Adam says. "Besides, Patricia knows what you're capable of, and that's enough for me. Always has been." 

"I miss you," Noah says, and he hates the longing that creeps into his voice. He'd promised himself, back when this whole thing started, that he wouldn't be that person—that he wouldn't put that on Adam—but here he is, doing the very thing he swore he wouldn't do. 

"I miss you too," Adam says. "But it's only a few more months before we stand down for a mandatory rest period. You up for a little Italian sojourn?" 

It's Noah's turn to snort. "You come up with that all by yourself?" 

"Yeah," Adam says. "You like it?" 

"I like the idea of Italy with you," Noah says. "But maybe leave the poetry to someone who's good at it." 

"Yeah, yeah," Adam says. "You gonna be okay?" 

"I'll be fine," Noah says, waving his hand, though he knows Adam can't see. "You?" 

"Apart from missing you like a phantom limb? Yeah, I'll be fine." 

And that, right there? That's why Noah fell for Adam. What else can he say to that? 

"Take care of yourself out there, huh?" he says instead of any of the hundred other things he wants to say. 

"I will," Adam says. 

He doesn’t promise, because they both know the value of that promise. But he hears it anyway. If there's any way at all to make it back home to his man, Noah knows he'll try. 

"I love you," Noah practically whispers. 

There's a pause, and then quiet words reach him across the miles. "Love you back." 

The line clicks dead just as Hannah rounds the corner and slides back into the booth. "You look like your dog just died. Everything alright?" 

"Yeah," Noah says, flashing her a quick smile. He sits up and takes another sip of his drink. "Everything's fine." 

"Girlfriend?" she asks. 

Noah's head pops up, but Hannah's got this soft, understanding smile on. He thinks about lying or evading, but what's the point? It's not like he's ashamed of this thing with Adam. 

"Boyfriend, actually," he says, head ducking a little. 

"Well, did not see that one coming," Hannah mutters. She takes a sip of her own drink—her third, if Noah remembers correctly. "So, why aren't you somewhere with him instead of in this bar with me?" 

"He's on the road," Noah says, the hard truth of that settling into his bones. "Business." 

"You make it sound like he's a rock star," Hannah says with a chuckle. 

Noah snorts. "Something like that." 

"So, how long's it been since you've seen him?" 

"Couple months, maybe?" Noah says, even though he knows exactly how long it's been. Their last night together was four months and six days ago. He's not going to quote minutes and seconds because that'll make him sound pathetic, but he knows down to the last millisecond. 

"Wow, that's gotta suck," Hannah says. "What's he do?" 

"Same thing you and I do," Noah says. 

It's vague enough that she can take it for what she wants. He knows she's entirely too perceptive to not notice how vague he's being, but he really doesn't care. This—what's between him and Adam—is special, just for them. If she starts poking too close, he's not afraid to shut her down. He just hopes he doesn’t have to. 

But it's like she's reading his mind, or maybe just the grimace on his face, because she just nods and lets it go. Noah breathes a sigh of relief and downs the rest of his drink. All of a sudden, he's ready for this night to be over. 

He gets up and tosses a few bills on the table, shrugging into his jacket and grabbing his bag from the seat he'd just been occupying. 

"Hey," Hannah says, drawing his attention. She's got a small smile on her face, but it's more friendly than anything else. "We did good today. You need to remember that. 'All clocks are safe'." 

Noah smiles back, soft and tentative, and maybe just a little wistful that their days could end this way more often. "Yeah, we did. Thanks." 

He doesn't wait for her to answer, just heads for the door. It might be rude, but right now he doesn’t care. It's not like this mission was any more fucked up than any of the ones that came before. Maybe it was Callie being the HVT, and maybe it was the too-close call at the end, when it looked like Adam wouldn't make it to the extraction point. 

Whatever it is, Noah takes a deep breath as he steps out the door, releasing it slowly as he looks up at the stars above, letting go of all the anxiety and stress of the day. Adam's sleeping under these same stars, he thinks, then snorts at the overly saccharine romanticism of it all. He's never telling Adam that's what he was thinking, but he thinks he wouldn't need to; Adam knows him better than any man alive. 

He utters a silent thank you to those self-same stars and heads for his car. 

~Finis 

**Author's Note:**

> The title of the story comes from the Bob Dylan song _A Hard Rain's a-Comin'_. The line "All clocks are safe" comes from _The Hiding Place_ by Corrie ten Boom.
> 
> And these two... my head canon as of this episode. And they haven't even shared screen-time yet. /facepalm/


End file.
